by Kira Graham
I decide that I am definitely losing my mind when he grabs her up into a hug, and my first thought is that I want to kill him. Brutally. It gets even worse when I have to stand and stare at them, watching Tee’s lip tremble while he whispers something to her and then cradles her against him as she buries her face in his chest.
Yeah. It’s official. I’ve lost my fucking mind.
Tee
“Just let him in,” Nate mutters as he serves the steak dinner and adds broccoli to the plate, the sight turning my stomach so much that I have to swallow convulsively and tell myself that it’s not broccoli at all.
I despise broccoli, and with the morning sickness now turning into noon and night sickness, too, the chances of my making it through dinner without spewing all over the place are slim.
“I don’t wanna. If he comes in here, then I am definitely done with hiding out, and I need to hide out, Nate. Did you forget what happened?” I hiss, feeling renewed panic trying to take hold before I wrestle it down and tell myself that it’ll all be okay.
“Nope. But I also haven’t forgotten that he could be more than a little involved in the rest of your life, and seeing as how you dropped the L bomb to Cleo, and you’re probably going to have to confess things soon, I was hoping that you’d be smart enough to lay some groundwork for the man. Look, I get that you’re panicking—”
“I am not! I’m rock-solid. I just wanted to get away for a bit.”
“You ran away, Nefertiti, and I don’t blame you for it, either. You’re tough, and yeah, you’re solid, but you’re not infallible, lady. The last few months have been incredibly stressful, and having yet another gun pointed in your face must have been hard to deal with. I get it. But this—” he says, waving a hand around the kitchen, “this isn’t going to solve anything.”
“I’m not looking to solve anything. I just wanted some time alone to think about my next step. I’ve already decided that I’m going to take more self-defense classes, and I was fiddling with a few ideas to find Mindy. That’s all.”
“So, you aren’t hiding out here because of the baby?” he asks softly, smiling when I curse and glare up at him.
Of course I am. Yesterday, after I didn’t get a call from Cleo, I started planning a trip to Argentina, where I would carry to full term, have this kid, and then show up on Sin’s doorstep and yell, “Surprise!” As plans go, it sucked, but for the ten whole minutes that I indulged in it, I was blissfully happy. Until I remembered that Rosetta can find anyone, anywhere, at any time. With her contacts, I’m starting to think that the CIA shoulda called her in order to find that Bin Laden guy.
“Dammit, Nate…”
“Because I don’t blame you if you are. This is a tough situation to be in.”
“A situation of my own damn making! God, I’m such an idiot, Nate. I should have kept my damn vagina to myself, at least until after I’d either gotten my period or conceived. Heck, it would have been enough if I’d just made Ares wear a condom that first time. My Aunt Honey is right! ‘Vagina’ is just another word for ‘brainless,’” I grunt, my stupid lip trembling again.
See? This is why I wanted to be alone. I thought that if I took a leaf out of Alex’s book, then I could just stop thinking about things for a while. Just long enough to not want to run away. Because that isn’t me. At all. I’m not the girl who runs away from stuff, and somehow, I feel like this is all Ares’ fault. All his fault. He shoulda kept his dick to himself.
Nate chortles and finishes dishing up the food, though I note that he’s removed the broccoli from my plate and replaced it with a roll, bless his observant heart. Then he sighs and looks pointedly at the third plate, and, like the idiot that this pregnancy has turned me into, I sigh, slink off the kitchen chair, and make my way to the back door, where I can see Ares lying on one of the loungers by the pool, his long-suffering stare boring into me.
With a deep breath in, I flip the lock and push the door open, hiding the twitch of my lip when he narrows his gaze and gets to his feet, all six foot something of him doing terrible things to my libido. God, a man should not look that hot in gray slacks and a shirt, dammit, and what the heck happened to those floppy George Clooney-style pants that men used to wear? The pair that Ares is wearing is tailored perfectly, enough so that I can see that he tucks to the left. And man oh man, all of that is as sexy as hell.
“About damn time. Christ, you’re a mean-spirited woman,” he grumbles, stalking past me and into the kitchen with a curse.
“I gave you water, loser,” I remind him, feeling only a little bad when I take in the pit stains on his expensive shirt and the sweat that’s drying in his hair.
Okay, so it was a little too hot outside to leave him scorching in the sun. I’ll feel guilty about it…never.
“You gave me one bottle that you threw through the window while cackling and telling me to conserve it,” he huffs, pulling his shirt off over his head with a curse.
Don’t look, Nefertiti. Don’t let your vagina see—oh, snap! Dammit. I look, and what I see makes my tongue nearly roll out and hit the floor. Ares has always been well built, but the muscle that he had was leaner, like a swimmer’s kind of body more than that of a gym rat, like the other guys’. Right now, though, all I see is bulk, and my heart almost stops when I glance down to see that the V that he had before is much more pronounced, as if he’s been working out more.
Holy hell, hot mama—I want it.
Mentally slapping myself and wishing that I could blame all this on my hormones, I clear my throat and flop back into my seat, reminding myself that sex is off the table. For the last few days, I’ve woken up with a little more pooch to my belly than I can explain away, and I definitely don’t want Ares seeing it before I can think up a good lie—or, you know, tell him the truth.
Shit. I can’t tell him, I think, swallowing down a prickle of nausea when I look up to find him staring directly at me and ignoring Nate as he places our plates of food before us.
“You look pale.”
I feel pale, I think, raising my water glass with a slightly shaking hand and taking a sip to put off answering.
“I’m a pale girl, Hart. Can’t get this redheaded skin in the sun too often, or I’ll look like a tie-dyed cinnamon sprinkle.”
That has his lips quirking, and I scowl, because I once heard something similar from this very asshole, and it cut my vanity deeply. Yeah, I freckle when I get too much sun, but the idiot didn’t have to point that out, or, ya know, mention that they’re orange!
“No, I mean that you don’t look well. I think that I noticed it before, too, but I was a little distracted,” he murmurs, thanking Nate for the food and tucking in.
I dig in, too, if only to have something to keep me occupied, and take small, slow bites to keep down any sickness that may pop up. This is awkward, and I don’t want to be here. And I think Ares knows that, because he smiles slightly when he peers up at me and notes the beer that Nate got for each of them, and then my water glass.
“Not drinking anything tonight?”
“Oh, ya know, I’m trying to stay off the sauce. Wouldn’t want anyone to accuse me of being a raging alcoholic again,” I grumble, enjoying the direct hit when I see him flinch slightly.
“I didn’t call you an alcoholic. I simply suggested that not getting completely drunk might help you to think before you say certain things. That woman was a day older than dirt when you lit into her in that grocery store.”
“She shouldn’t have been so mean to me, and, by the way, I wasn’t even a little drunk when I told her off, so if you were blaming that on the alcohol, then don’t. That was all me,” I say and preen, smiling when he huffs and goes back to eating.
Good. Don’t talk to me, I think, a little bubble of hurt unfurling inside me because I’m an ass. I told everyone that I loved this guy, and all I’ve gotten in return so far is having my ass chewed out for having the gall to make the claim at all. As romantic reciprocation goes, that sucks, and I need to rem
ember that when I look at his all-too-handsome face.
Maybe I should wait until he’s sleeping and wax off his eyebrows. I bet he’d look hideous without eyebrows.
“Stop sitting there, plotting. It’s fucking annoying and unsettling. If you do something to me while I’m sleeping, I’ll tan your ass,” he growls around a piece of steak, his lips quirking up when I snarl at him.
“You try that weird kinky shit on me, and you’ll wake up in Mexico without hands,” I warn, smiling darkly. “Rosetta knows how to make that happen.”
Ares snorts, and for once, I think he’s amused by me, until he looks down at my plate and sees the way that I’m pushing my food around. I’m feeling so wonky that I’m scared I’ll puke if I eat right now. I’ll bet that in an hour, I’ll be so hungry that I’d consider eating a raccoon, but for now, I just—
“Eat! I haven’t seen you eat anything all afternoon. No wonder you’re so pale.”
And on and on he goes, those eagle eyes watching me until I’ve finished half the steak, and eaten most of the roll and the beet salad that Nate decided that I just had to have.
Gross.
When we’re done, I wave Nate off and load the dishwasher, and then stalk to the living room, where he and Ares are already channel surfing and arguing over what to watch. Mr. Peace Be With You wants the news, unsurprisingly, while Nate is looking for a movie, preferably action.
Crap. I don’t know how long I’m gonna make it.
********************************************************************Four hours later…
Shitballs. Owie! I almost scream, as I shimmy down the tree and ask myself again just how I convinced myself that I should sneak out this way instead of through the back, like I should have. I feel about as graceful as a dog with two legs when I finally drop down from the low-hanging branch and ass-plant beside the trunk.
I’m escaping, and I intend to take that old car and disappear to a luxury hotel for a week or two, and never, ever be stupid enough to confide in Cleo again. Me. I’m the girl who’ll take a secret to the grave for others, but let me have a secret, and suddenly, I can’t seem to keep my damn mouth shut. Stupid feelings. I should have known that being pregnant would ruin me.
Pushing myself up and grabbing the backpack that I tossed out minutes earlier, I attempt to remember where all the sensors are located as I creep towards the front, where the cars are parked. If I were a bitch, I’d have grabbed Ares’ car keys on the way out and stranded them here. Unfortunately, I like Nate way too much to stick him with Mr. Killjoy, and plus, I felt this awful, weird, strange feeling when I thought about doing it to Ares, too. I think that it may have been guilt, although, not being all that familiar with that feeling, I’m not copping to it.
I’m creeped out as I slowly move forward, keeping low just the way Heath and Grange taught me to months ago, when I demanded that they show me some cool moves. I feel like a fat pig as I trundle forward, though, with no grace in my movements, and I almost scream when the wind picks up and I hear tree branches crackling behind me.
You’re a ninny, Tee. There’s absolutely no one out there, and you are not being watched, I tell myself sternly, when the urge to bolt back up the tree assails me. Just breathe. You’re fine.
The problem is, I can feel someone watching me, and the longer it takes for me to move closer to the front of the house, the more freaked out I get. It’s ludicrous, really. I’ve been in graveyards during the dead of night before, and one time, I even hid in an unfilled grave just to scare the heck out of Cleo. My point is, I shouldn’t be shaking so badly right now that I can hear my teeth clattering, and I really should not be ready to run away screaming whenever the wind makes a whispering noise.
I swear to God that I can hear something whispering my name, though, and the more I slink around, with my knees nearly touching the grass, the more it creeps me out.
Teeeeee…
Oh my God, oh my God, I did not just hear that. It’s just the wind, I tell myself, falling into a huddled crouch behind a bush, my nerves jangling so fiercely that I shiver despite the heat of the night. It’s only slightly cooler than it was earlier, something that I both appreciate and loathe, since I can’t blame my shaking on the temperature, though God knows that I’m starting to sweat like a pig as I remain crouched in this uncomfortable squat. An exercise freak, I am not.
Teeeeee…
The wind whispers again, and this time, instead of hiding, I bolt towards the front and come to a stop behind a tree trunk, breathing so hard that you’d swear I’d run a mile.
Teeeeee…
I should have stayed at home in my nice, cozy apartment, where there are so many security guys that even the queen would have a hard time making an appointment. Or, at the very least, I should have stayed inside, where there are two strong men ready to protect me, though God knows that with Ares, that’s not a given. The idiot would probably offer whoever is out here a drink and the opportunity to sit down and discuss their feelings!
Please, Jesus, I think, a flashback of the night that Peter held Sin and me hostage flitting through my mind. I can feel the cold steel of the gun pressed into my eye, the pressure so fierce that I had to go see a doctor just to make sure that the damage wasn’t permanent. I feel that gun again now, digging into me, along with the fear and the absolute hell of thinking that there isn’t a thing that I can do to save us.
I’m back in that apartment again, with Sin cowering behind me, and all I can think is that I’m going to die. The helplessness of it, and knowing that no amount of trash talk or defensive maneuvering will save me. Any minute now, just a breath more, and he’ll pull the trigger and kill me.
A sob gets lodged in my throat, and once again, I have to choke it down and blink to dispel the image, bring myself back to the here and now, and remind my mind that it’s over.
Teeeeee…
Just the wind. But oh, Jesus, I keep seeing images of some maniac jumping out from behind the trees, wielding a machete. Damn Nate for choosing a horror film tonight, and damn my own brain for finding it so enthralling that I watched the whole thing, even after those two bozos fell asleep.
I can do this. There’s no one out there, Tee. It’s just about another thirty feet to the cars, and then I’m home free. All you need to do is get in the car—check the back, because now I’m paranoid and reliving a scene from Slaughterhouse—and slowly ease it down the road until you’re in the clear. I can so totally do this. I’ve done much scarier things in my life, and one of those entailed hiding in my Aunt Honey’s pantry all night just so that I could scare the bejesus outta her. I can do this!
My arms and legs are taut and shaking so badly that when I tighten my backpack over my shoulder and run for the car, I’m halfway there before I even notice the dark shadow looming up ahead. It’s a tree, my mind screams, but I know that it isn’t. It’s too menacing!
“Oh, Jesus!” I scream as I try to stop, my legs locking up and sending me into an undignified sprawl.
Right into the shadow. At first, I’m so freaked out that I can’t move when its arms come up to grab me. I go stock-still and so stiff that it feels as if my whole body is one throbbing, wounded muscle. Then I lose it, my limbs going crazy on me as I forget every self-defense move I’ve ever learned. To put it mildly, I fight like a little girl, slapping and hissing as I struggle, my muffled screams turning to shrieks when I feel myself hoisted up so that my feet are dangling from the ground.
I can’t see where we’re going, as my face is smashed into the shadow’s chest, and by the time that I’ve been dumped onto something soft and my vision clears, I almost faint when I look up to see Ares standing over me, a stern, patient expression all over his face.
“What the hell?” I yell, my hand clutching at my heart as fright turns into fight and has me practically levitating from the couch.
Now that I’m not ready to die of fear, it takes me a second to realize that I’m in the living room, and that Ares is the one who grabbed
me. And boy, am I pissed.
“You know, I didn’t know whether to laugh my ass off or yell at you when I saw you sneaking out,” he muses, his smile all kinds of dark and dastardly as I clutch at my chest and bend over, heaving so hard that I feel like I’ll pass out.
“You scared me to death, you idiot!” I scream, a sob bursting free as I try to calm myself down.
Stress isn’t good for the baby, I hear Dr. Payne saying in her soft voice. You just need to relax and try not to get all worked up.
Right now, though, I’m not worked up; I feel worked over. I flop down, my face buried in my knees, to the sound of Ares chuckling, only to have Nate rush in and bark out a curse.
“What the hell is going on? Tee? Honey? Oh God, is it the baby?”
Everything goes still then, and I hardly feel a thing as Nate falls to his knees beside me and lifts me, his hands running themselves all over me while he barks at Ares to call an ambulance. I want to crawl into the ground and die, or at least just stick around with the worms until the coast is clear and I can run off somewhere. Maybe to Puerto Rico. I hear that they’re struggling over there. I could invest some money and build a compound and be revered…
“Baby?”
I hear a choked, strangled gasp leave Ares, and I force myself to look up at him even though I know what I’ll see there. Shock. Horror. Fury.
Chapter Thirteen
Tee
“I can’t believe you’d be so stupid!” he yells for the twentieth time, pacing by me on yet another circuit towards the windows and back, his hand nearly tearing at his hair before he stalks back to stop in front of me and glare.
Nate is in the corner, cowering. As he should be, I think, sending him another death glare that has the man sinking lower on the couch and pretending not to see me. I could kill him right now—and I will, just as soon as I’ve killed this huge man-child in front of me and hidden his body. Because I’ll need Nate’s help with that!
